Sunday, November 29, 2015

Waiting

I’ve seen him before. Waiting for what I do not know.Alone He sits, politely nodding to the passersby, checking his watch patiently. He wears an old black suit with a beaming white shirt,atop his bald head a fading black derby sits.He’s alone this nondescript man, waiting. On his narrow lap a tattered book rest, he’s waiting.I’ve seen him before, the black man with the tattered book.Waiting for what I do not know.By Lucius Wilson